


Worth the Wait

by pinkadot



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: 50 Sentences, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:15:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkadot/pseuds/pinkadot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 50 sentences that could be read separately as their own drabbles or together as a full story, detailing Kirishima's impatience and the sexy-playful sort of relationship he and Yokozawa have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth the Wait

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts came from, of all places, the [Jedi Council Forums](http://boards.theforce.net/non_star_wars_fan_fiction_resource/b10809/31456891/p1/?197), who have a surprisingly good collection of 50 Sentences prompts (even for someone such as myself who has no interest in Star Wars. XD)

**01\. Hands**

All they were doing was holding onto a half-empty bottle of Sapporo, fingers of one hand idly drawing patterns in the condensation on the bottle, but Kirishima couldn’t help but want to feel those hands curled around him, fingers sticky with an entirely different sort of liquid.

 **02\. Feet**

Banking on Yokozawa’s ability to keep his emotions in check in a public setting—and around Takano, no less, Kirishima let his socked foot seek out Yokozawa’s leg underneath the low table, toes inching their way up from his ankle and over his calf, then moving higher, brushing the inside of his knee, and he smirked at the way the guy suddenly tensed in his seat.

 **03\. Legs**

Yokozawa glared at Kirishima from across the table and quickly brought his legs together, knees pressing tight to capture that roaming foot between them before it could reach its true target—playing footsie at an izakaya was just not a good idea.

 **04\. Arms**

It came as some surprise to Kirishima when Yokozawa suddenly pushed away from the table and stood, professing that he wasn’t feeling very well, and Kirishima jumped on the chance to “offer” to take him home, going so far as to wrap an arm around Yokozawa’s waist to hold him steady.

 **05\. Chest**

The way Yokozawa’s heart was thundering in his chest, he considered it a small miracle that Kirishima didn’t comment on it on their quiet ride home, but luckily the dull roar of the wheels massaging the pavement drowned out the rapid tattoo that to him sounded louder than a drumline.

 **06\. Neck**

Kirishima prided himself on being able to keep his hands off Yokozawa on the agonizingly long drive back to their apartment, but as soon as the front door clicked shut behind them, he made his move, cupping the back of Yokozawa’s neck and tugging him close for a heated kiss that started at his lips and ended with a series of nips against the soft, sensitive skin of his throat.

 **07\. Back**

As soon as he feasibly could, Yokozawa broke their kiss—hard as it was, considering the guy was so damn _good_ at them--and spun Kirishima around by his shoulders, giving his strong, broad back a push with both hands to guide him further into the apartment, chiding, “I don’t care if Hiyo’s not here; save it for the bedroom.”

 **08\. Elbows**

“That’s all the more reason _to_ do it out here,” Kirishima retorted, already loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, the material catching in the crooks of his elbows as he shrugged it off his shoulders.

 **09\. Hips**

It was only a few seconds later that they found themselves in Kirishima’s bedroom, and Yokozawa wasted no time making his intentions known, coming up behind Kirishima, their hips bumping as he worked to unbuckle Kirishima’s belt from behind, glad that his current position kept hidden the deep flush of his cheeks as he murmured, “Trust me, you’re going to want the bed.”

 **10\. Knees**

The thought of Yokozawa’s unexpected assertiveness served to turn Kirishima on like nothing else, and he very nearly groaned at the mere thought of it, shedding clothes up until his knees hit the bed, and he was more than happy to comply with Yokozawa’s request of _on your hands and knees._

 **11\. Support**

While Yokozawa was busy stripping himself and fetching some lubricant and a condom for later, Kirishima knelt on the bed, supporting himself on one elbow while using the fingers of his free hand to curl around his shaft, giving it a few long, slow tugs to coax it to full hardness.

 **12\. Curve**

Seeing that Kirishima was obviously ready to start without him, Yokozawa knelt on the bed behind him and gave him a warning smack on the ass before leaning over his back, hand running down over the curve of his spine and moving down to his hip, then lower, voice rough as he lectured, “Show a little patience, why don’t you?”

 **13\. Expression**

“You know I wouldn’t _dream_ of starting without you,” Kirishima teased, his face the picture of amused impishness, and he was glad Yokozawa couldn’t see it, “but I swear to god, if you don’t do something soon, your topping privileges are getting revoked.”

 **14\. Thumb**

Yokozawa grunted a reply and batted Kirishima’s hand out of the way, fingers curling around his cock, already thick and hot against his palm, and he gave it a few perfunctory strokes, then made a tight ring with thumb and forefinger, stroking in earnest, pausing only occasionally to swipe his thumb across the tip to spread the wetness gathering there down his shaft in order to ease his glide.

 **15\. Pinky**

The sound of the loud groan that slipped from between Kirishima’s lips when his cock was stroked was enough to make Yokozawa’s jerk where it was pressed against the cleft of his ass, and in an effort to quiet his moans—if only for the sake of the neighbors, he bit down on his pinky hard enough to leave a mark.

 **16\. Nails**

Every so often, Yokozawa would pause his strokes to very lightly rake his nails down Kirishima’s sensitive shaft, if only to wring another moan from his lips, his poor, battered finger having fallen away from his mouth in favor of gripping the sheets below him.

 **17\. Fingerprint**

“ _Fuck_ , will you just get on with it already,” Kirishima ground out, his cock straining proudly and dripping with need, and his fingers had been curled so tightly around the sheets he was sure his fingerprints must be permanently etched into them.

 **18\. Cheek**

Yokozawa’s hand fell away from Kirishima’s cock, and Kirishima shifted slightly, pressing his cheek against the back of one hand as he watched Yokozawa eagerly slick his fingers with the baby oil he had procured.

 **19\. Nose**

As the first finger worked its way inside, Kirishima wrinkled his nose, as it had certainly been a while since they had last found time for more than just a quick one-off in the shower before work or a heated kiss before turning in at night.

 **20\. Brow**

Kirishima’s brows furrowed as Yokozawa worked swiftly but thoroughly to stretch and prepare him for the taking, diligent and tender in a way only Yokozawa could be, the sensation a dull, but pleasant burn even with the aid of oil.

 **21\. Lips**

Yokozawa licked his lips, teeth sinking into his lower one as he nudged first, then finally slid home inside Kirishima, who instinctively tightened around him and gave a low groan in response.

 **22\. Ears**

With Yokozawa fully seated within him, hot and thick and oh so perfect, and his heartbeat loud in his ears, he couldn’t help but shiver when Yokozawa slid his hands up over his back and leaned over him, whispering in his ear, “Worth the wait?”

 **23\. Chin**

Slowly, Yokozawa began to move, hips making a slow retreat before pressing forward again, just enough to tease, but not enough to satisfy as he pressed his chin against Kirishima’s shoulder to wait for his answer.

 **24\. Teeth**

Kirishima’s teeth dug into his lip at the maddeningly slow pace Yokozawa had set, and he nodded firmly, a deep moan sneaking from his lips, “Fuck, _yes_ ,” he replied, “now _move_ , dammit!”

 **25\. Lobe**

Yokozawa’s response was a low, rumbling chuckle and a brief nip to Kirishima’s earlobe, his hips punching forward harder, faster than before, and he was met by Kirishima’s pushing back against him, wringing louder and more frequent cries from his lips.

 **26\. Tongue**

Not content with sitting still, Kirishima shifted beneath Yokozawa, reaching one hand up to tug his head down for a searing kiss, tongue easily finding its way into Yokozawa’s mouth even despite the awkward angle, and Kirishima used it to push a series of moans down his throat.

 **27\. Muscle**

Yokozawa pulled up and back, hands drawing down over the toned and tense muscles of Kirishima’s back, slick with the sheen of sweat, and finally settled on his hips, fingers digging in as he thrust harder, eager to prove to Kirishima he could give as good as he got.

 **28\. Throat**

At length, Yokozawa reached down, gripped Kirishima’s shoulders, and tugged him back against his chest, fingers drawing slowly down over his throat to come to rest square against his chest as Kirishima threw his head back.

 **29\. Heart**

Beneath his fingers, Yokozawa could feel Kirishima’s heart beating wildly in his chest and he was sure his own was no different, the movement of his hips almost as fast as that frantic, rhythmic beat.

 **30\. Lungs**

“Yokozawa,” Kirishima panted, breath coming hard and heavy, burning hot in his lungs even as he fell forward onto his hands again, desperately pushing back into every thrust as if he needed release more than he needed air, “ _fuck_ , I’m—“

 **31\. Spine**

Within a matter of moments, Kirishima’s pleasure crested, the wave of pure bliss rolling all the way down his spine, released in thick, white ribbons over the dark blue sheets below him and leaving him breathless and unsteady, fingers fisted tightly in the sheets.

 **32\. Eyes**

When Kirishima finally managed to turn his head enough to face Yokozawa again, the guy had his eyes closed, face a mask of concentration, the furrow between his brows deeper than usual as he tried to hang on for just a little longer despite Kirishima’s reflexive tightening around him.

 **33\. Pupil**

It was a shame, Kirishima thought, that from his current position, and in the low light in the room, he couldn’t see the way Yokozawa’s pupils dilated when he finally came, slamming home and drawing a moan from Kirishima, who shivered at the heat of Yokozawa’s release within him.

 **34\. Iris**

When Yokozawa was lying next to him moments later, sweaty and panting for breath, Kirishima pushed himself up onto his elbows, finally getting a good look at Yokozawa’s face, from the furrow between his brows and the smoky blue of his irises all the way down to his thin but soft lips and strong jaw, and he couldn’t resist the urge to give that furrow in his brow a poke.

 **35\. Eyelash**

“Cut that out,” Yokozawa chided, immediately, albeit halfheartedly, batting Kirishima’s hand away from his face, watching the way his long lashes lifted away as his eyes opened wider, revealing the playful warmth dancing within.

 **36\. Cleft**

“No one who just fucked me like _that_ should look so upset about it,” Kirishima retorted, and when Yokozawa rolled onto one side to face away from him, Kirishima let his fingers dance down over his side and hip, teasingly brushing against the cleft of his ass and adding, “…Unless of course you just can’t be satisfied unless I get _my_ turn too.”

 **37\. Bones**

Faster than before, Yokozawa swatted Kirishima’s hand away and pushed himself up off the bed to take care of the less glamorous after-sex details, and Kirishima watched him go with a long sigh and a soft smile, a tiredness creeping over him that seeped all the way to his bones, the result of a combination of great sex coupled with long workdays.

 **38\. Jaw**

Once the condom had been properly disposed of, Yokozawa turned back toward Kirishima, jaw hardened in disapproval until he saw the look of quiet affection on Kirishima’s face, making him subside with a huff and a, “Really, Kirishima-san, you act like an insatiable teenager, but you can barely keep your eyes open after just one round.”

 **39\. Hair**

Kirishima waved him off and ran a hand through his hair, then Yokozawa’s when he finally returned to the bed, mussing the sweat-sticky strands and replying with a wide grin, “It’s such a rare occasion that I get propositioned by _the_ Yokozawa Takafumi, who am I to turn him down?”

 **40\. Birthmark**

“More like it’s a rare occasion that you don’t try to get a piece of _me_ first,” Yokozawa grumbled as he slid under the covers, facing Kirishima, “so if I didn’t jump on the chance now and then, I’d never get to see that little birthmark just above your ass.”

 **41\. Freckle**

“Pity,” Kirishima laughed softly, stretching out on the bed as he sidled closer to Yokozawa, looking fit to fall asleep right there, though he couldn’t resist one more quip, “but it’s not like I don’t also know about the freckle on your inner thigh—or that cute little one on your balls.”

 **42\. Smile**

Yokozawa’s cheeks flushed a deep red and he kicked at Kirishima under the covers, wishing he could wipe that smug smile off his lips (even if it _was_ damn attractive), “Just shut up and go to sleep, idiot.”

 **43\. Frame**

“You’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” Kirishima remarked, slinging one arm over Yokozawa’s waist, simply comforted by the closeness of his strong and sturdy frame, a contented sigh slipping from between his lips as he finally let his eyes slide closed.

 **44\. Pulse**

Yokozawa frowned, watching Kirishima as his breathing evened out, pulse steady as it returned to its resting rate, and he thought to himself that no matter how much he may have wanted to, it was hard to stay mad at a face that looked that peaceful in repose.

 **45\. Wrinkle**

Sometimes when he watched Kirishima’s sleeping face, he couldn’t help thinking the similarities between his features and Hiyo’s were striking, the fine wrinkles around Kirishima’s eyes, likely gained more from a life of wide smiles than age, softened in the low lighting, making him look much younger than his years, almost boyish even.

 **46\. Heartbeat**

Kirishima shifted on the bed, made a soft, unintelligible sound, and Yokozawa felt his heartbeat speed up, worried that he was going to be caught—and called out for—staring, but the threat passed without incident, and rather than risk it a second time, Yokozawa simply closed his eyes, the sight of Kirishima’s sleeping form quickly reminding him just how tired he really was.

 **47\. Unique**

It was comfortable, Yokozawa thought, sharing a bed like this with Kirishima, but sadly a luxury they couldn’t often afford with a precocious child at home and with their relationship as unique and unconventional as it was, so nights like this when it was just the two of them in the apartment were something of a rare treasure for them both.

 **48\. Strength**

Or at least that was what Yokozawa had originally thought, until Kirishima rolled over on the bed, taking almost all of the blanket with him and forcing Yokozawa to employ a great deal of strength in order to get even half of them back, tucked up underneath the virtual dead weight of the body next to him.

 **49\. Heart** (yes, for some reason, this prompt appeared twice)

But he had neither the energy nor the heart to get upset with Kirishima, sleeping soundly as he was, so Yokozawa simply took the easiest route available to him and sidled up close to Kirishima, sharing both the blanket and their body heat, one arm resting tentatively yet comfortably at the dip of Kirishima’s waist.

 **50\. Soul**

In the quiet dark of the very early morning, the only thing still active was Yokozawa’s mind, wondering if Kirishima had any idea how grateful he was just to have the opportunity to have someone _to_ get mad at for such a trivial thing, someone who could rile him up in any number of both innocent and impure ways, and who was just as happy to be in his life as he was in theirs, and that, Yokozawa decided, was something he was grateful for not just from the bottom of his heart, but the very depths of his soul.


End file.
